Cruel to be kind
by Cazadora de Astros
Summary: This is a HarryDraco fanfic which does imply and include homosexuality. Together Draco Malfoy and his partnerincrime relish in destroying others reputations. But when Draco faces his greatest challenge yet, will he finally be defeated?
1. Chapter 1

** I do not own the rights to any of the Harry Potter characters – they one hundred per cent belong to the wonderful JK Rowling. I also have adapted the plot for this story from the movie Cruel Intentions, which I also do not own the rights to. **

Cruel to be kind

- Cured -

"Lets try and focus, shall we?" Dr Bilman watched the tall blonde boy sigh dramatically as he lay sprawled on the expensive leather couch in his office. "I understand it can be difficult to remember the past." There was a pause whilst he waited for a response.

"I don't know what else to say. I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot."

"I am. A poor pretty little rich boy. Always feeling sorry for myself." The blonde muttered self-piteously. Dr. Bilman's put on the best sympathetic voice he could manage. He had seen enough ego-infested teenagers to understand that this boy had problems far beyond his help. But he shook himself mentally and continued on with the job he had become hugely famous for over the last fourteen years – lying to make bad people feel good about themselves.

"You are not to blame. Youth can be a difficult time and without great parenting – " the boy snorted – "things can go…slightly off course." The boy stared at his feet as the Doctor continued. "But now is the time to rise above your parents' mistakes, don't you agree?" There was another silence. "Stop being so hard on yourself. What's in the past is over." The boy's blue eyes bored into his for a moment.

"I guess you're right," he replied finally. He stood up from the smooth leather couch. "It's hard to believe there was actually a time in my life when I didn't care about anything; about anyone. That all I cared about was…sex." he looked down again, embarrassed. Dr Bilman stood up from his chair and faced him, patting him lightly on the shoulder.

"I told you it would get better with time." The boy nodded.

"Take yourself for example," the blonde said suddenly. Dr Bilman raised an eyebrow. "You are a very attractive man. You have incredible eyes…" Dr Bilman frowned suspiciously. "I would love to spend time with you, getting to know you…" he found himself staring in shock. He had heard many bizarre things from this strange young man in previous sessions, but this was the most obscure so far. "But that was the old me," he suddenly announced proudly, moving over to stare out of the long glass windows that lined the large room.

"Indeed." Was the only word the doctor could find, unable to hide the sceptical tone in his voice. He placed the lid back on his pen.

"I'm finally cured!" The boy exclaimed emphatically. Dr Bilman nodded reflexively, almost ninety nine per cent sure that this boy didn't have a hope in hell of ever being cured.

The boy held out a long pale hand out to the Doctor enthusiastically. "Same time next week?" Dr Bilman shook the boy's hand apprehensively.

"I'm afraid I won't be here next week. I shall be off doing a few lectures in various schools – but I will be back in a month." He added, seeing the blonde boy's panicked expression.

"A month? Why?"

"It's my job, I'm afraid. But if you need anything - anything at all - just send your Owl." Dr Bilman sat down at his desk. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

A large tawny owl suddenly began pecking on the glass window nearest to Dr Bilman's desk, the blustery wind from outside ruffling its feathers.

"Is that your bird?"

Dr Bilman opened the window slightly, allowing the large bird to soar gracefully through it.

"It is."

There was a small piece of roughly torn parchment tied to its leg. Dr Bilman removed it. "Ah, its from my son Andrew," he mused aloud, glancing at the familiar handwriting.

"Is that him?" the pale boy pointed at a moving photograph on the desk of a handsome boy with dark brown hair roughly the same age as himself. Dr. Bilman smiled proudly.

"Yes, that's him. He's an incredibly clever lad. Straight-A student; top of his class. He's currently training to be an Auror." Dr Bilman watched concerned as the blonde boy ran a slim finger down the face on the photograph, Andrew's smile in the photograph momentarily dropped as he did so.

"He's amazing." The boy commented quietly, his tone difficult to place. Dr Bilman hastily slid the photo to one side, out of the boy's reach. He was feeling increasingly edgy.

"Yes indeed. Well, I think that's the end of our session, Mr. Malfoy so if you'd kindly head outside, Helena will arrange another appointment on my return for you should you feel it necessary."

"Thank you." The boy headed for the door. "Oh, can I leave my paper here? I've read it already." The doctor nodded dismissively, simply wishing this annoying boy would leave. A copy of the _Daily Prophet _was dumped promptly on the corner of his desk.

He had gotten as far as unfolding his son's letter when the boy's soft drawl interrupted again. "Oh, by the way – " he stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame and pointed at Andrew's letter, " - I'd read that, if I were you. It looks kind of important." He gave the doctor a strangely considerate look, his strange blue eyes glistening as he left the office with a swish of his black cloak.

_Dear Dad,_

_I don't know what to do Dad. I had to Owl you because I didn't want to finding out any other way. I am too afraid to leave the house. I've been getting Howlers all morning. I don't want you to think badly of me, or that I am any less of a son to you that I have always been but something bad has happened. _

_I had been spending a lot of time with this boy, you see. He told me he thought I was great. We were really starting to like each other. He told me he understood me and that I had incredible eyes - _

Doctor Bilman frowned.

_- and I believed him. I believed everything he said! I don't know how I could have been so stupid! But he was just so charming and wonderful. But I suppose things just got out of hand…_

Doctor Bilman didn't need to read anymore. He reluctantly glanced at the front of the newspaper on the edge of his desk, its bold black title blaring out from the front page and thought he might pass out.

_PHOTOS RELEASED OF PYSCHIATRIST BILMAN'S SON PORTRAYING SHAMEFUL SEX ACTS_

Draco walked steadily up the corridor towards the reception area, finding it completely impossible to hide the grin on his face. He could feel the wonderful tingling sensation he always got when he knew things were working out.

Just as Draco made it to the end of the corridor there was a loud strangled shout from Dr Bilman's office.

"BASTARD!" Draco rolled his eyes at the lame insult and casually pulled out his wand, casting a quick but strong protective spell around him. He stood at the end of the corridor patiently, quite looking forward to seeing the Doctor's face.

Sure enough, seconds later, Dr Bilman came storming out of his office, his normally calm expression wracked with fury as he shook the piece of parchment in his right hand in his receptionist's face.

"WHERE DID HE GO?" he practically screamed at her, his usually tidy brown hair flicking in all directions.

"Wh – who, Doctor?"

"The Malfoy boy! He just left!" The receptionist stared dumfounded at the Doctor's erratic manner and nodded in the direction of the corridor. The Doctor's narrowed eyes turned and spotted Draco leaning lazily against the corridor wall. "YOU!" he pulled out his wand.

The next thing Draco knew there was a loud bang and Dr Bilman was sprawled on the floor a few feet away from him, evidently having been hit by his own spell as it rebounded off Draco's barrier. He looked murderous.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MY SON? YOU ARE DISGUSTING! YOU ARE – "

"I know, I know. I'm cured, right?" Draco grinned.

Doctor Bilman looked as though he would have wanted nothing more than to curse him into oblivion. But before the man could even get to his feet Draco had disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yo my fellow Harry/Draco lovers! Just thought I ought to let you all know that this story is planned right down to the very last chapter. I have currently written 8 of them already so will be posting as often as possible. There might be a bit of a pause at that point however as I want to concentrate on the chapters that follow. Enjoy!**

Wicked Wagering

Draco waltzed into the Manor admiring its many tall windows as the glinted in the sunlight. It was a good day. He felt exceptionally pleased with himself after succeeding in his latest mission. Breezing gracefully into the large hallway which had been decorated with enormous portraits of various Dark Wizards, Draco couldn't help but revel in the charmed life he was leading.

Elegant pieces of furniture lined the wooden panelled walls: a fine looking cabinet containing several bizarre artefacts Draco's Father had collected over the years. It was kept locked at all times. Unfortunately for his father, Draco had learned the complex spell to unlock this cabinet on his seventh birthday only to find nothing more than a few nasty cursed items. The artefacts, in his opinion, had been rather lame.

Draco headed down the hallway, very much looking forward to some of the wine his father stored in the kitchen.

"We are so happy that Neville will be able to study at the same college as you." Draco stopped hearing the unfamiliar voice drift towards him, his shoes squeaking slightly on the shiny floor. He peered around the edge of the living room door where he saw his closest friend Blaise Zabini perched on a chair addressing somebody Draco immensely disliked.

"Likewise, Mrs. Longbottom." he replied. On the plush couch opposite Blaise sat Neville Longbottom and his decrepit looking Grandmother, wearing her usual ghastly hat with a stuffed vulture attached to the rim.

Much to Draco's annoyance, after the War the rivalries between most Hogwarts houses had completely faded. Thanks, of course to Potter and his army of little followers. As a result any further education was entirely mixed. But of course, however hard the Ministry tried to 'rebuild old differences' some grudges ran too deep.

Draco had no idea what they were doing in his house but was ready to storm in and demand they leave when he caught sight of Blaise's appearance through a gap in the doorway. For some reason, the handsome black boy had dressed himself in a fine deep blue robe with cuffs and a collar. He looked like a Ministry official. Draco leaned closer and realised that it was in actual fact his CrossHeights college uniform – but Draco had only ever seen him wear it once. He leaned closer.

"You have been an inspiration to us, Blaise. I only hope that Neville can rise to the high standards you have given as an example. For once in his life." She added with a roll of her eyes. Neville looked at his feet.

"Well, I shall do my best to help." He smiled. The old woman turned to Neville who sat nervously on the couch, looking very pale. Draco noted how different to boy looked. No longer the rounded clumsy prat from their Hogwarts days he was now a much taller and slimmer.

"Blaise is one of the most popular and respected boys in the college, Neville. Listen to him and you shall go far, my boy." She waggled a stern finger in Neville's bemused face. "I don't know where you get your strength from." She commented admirably.

"Well, I know it probably sounds silly but whenever I doubt myself, or feel temptation that may result in a distraction from my studies I remember my father before he died and the words he would have spoken to guide me." Blaise nodded in the direction of a photograph placed on top of the mantelpiece of his father. Draco had to stop himself from laughing. Since moving in with Draco, Blaise was continually using the Manor to create a good impression. Of course, only Draco knew that Blaise had never even met his father.

Neville's grandmother stared at him in total awe.

"That is beautiful." Beside her, Neville gaped at Blaise, fascinated for a moment before speaking.

"What are the guys like?"

"Neville! Is that all that concerns you? For goodness sake." The old woman snapped. "You'll have to forgive him." She addressed Blaise, "I'm afraid Neville has never been in an all-boys' environment before." he smiled encouragingly. Draco frowned. Perhaps in Gryffindor the dormitories had been mixed?

"It's totally understandable. And of course, most of the young men who attend Crossheights are very decent and intelligent gentlemen. However, there can be the occasional exception."

"Indeed. Like that dreadful Draco Malfoy. I can't believe he got away with what he did to that assistant fitting his robe in Madam Malkins!"

At which point Draco saw fit to stride confidently into the room.

"Actually, I hear the experience has enlightened him somewhat." Draco stopped in front on the couch, leaning forward cupping his hand to the woman's ear as he did so. "VERY NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN MRS LONGBOTTOM." He yelled rudely in her wrinkled face. She looked as though she had been Petrified but apparently chose to ignore this obvious display of insolence.

"You remember my son Neville from Hogwarts?" she indicated Neville sitting beside her who was fixedly staring at Draco as though he was the most amazing thing he had ever laid eyes on. Draco gave the boy one his most dazzling smiles, removing his cloak as he did so.

"My, what a gorgeous young man you've turned out to be." Draco commented, his voice silky smooth. Neville blushed furiously. Blaise cleared his throat.

"Draco, I didn't realise you would be here this afternoon." He said giving Draco a sarcastic smile which Draco translated easily into '_get the fuck out of here.'_

"I would have been here much sooner had I know you would be here, Longbottom." He raised an eyebrow. Neville's grandmother scowled disapprovingly and stood up as quickly as her withered old frame would allow.

"Yes, well we should be going now. Thank you for your help." They made for the living room door.

"Neville, I will call you to arrange your class schedule. I want to make sure everything is sorted out efficiently for you." Blaise said enthusiastically as Neville tottered after his grandmother.

"Thanks," he muttered quietly as Draco held the door open for them. "It was good to see you again, Malfoy." Once again, his cheeks were bright red.

"Always a pleasure, Longbottom." Draco smiled, giving him a small wink.

"Let's go." His grandmother steered him forcefully out of the room, her voice echoing as she scolded her grandson.

"For goodness sake, boy. Must you be so _obvious_!"

Draco waited a few minutes to allow good time for them to leave before speaking.

"I didn't realise you were turning my living room into the setting for a college interview." Draco said dryly. Blaise released what could only be described as a loud 'huff'. He flung open the collar of his robes and began undoing his cuffs, ignoring Draco completely.

"I _hate_ these things."

"Could you possibly let me know when you are planning on inviting deranged old assholes into my house next time, Blaise?" Draco folded his arms and flopped onto the vacant couch moodily.

"That poor boy needs my guidance." Blaise replied pulling a small bottle from his pocket containing a fiery red liquid, from which he promptly took a swig. Blaise narrowed his eyes at Draco.

"What's wrong with you today? _Counselling_ sessions getting you down, are they?" he asked cynically. Draco gave him a withering look.

"It was just fine, thank you. Quite productive, in fact." He smiled at the memory of Doctor Bilman's face. He stood up and stared out of the window, something he had gotten into the habit of to stable his thoughts. "But I am getting _sick_ of sleeping with these trite teenagers." Blaise half nodded in understanding. "Are there no real men out there any more? Nothing surprises anyone anymore."

"Well, you can stop worrying. I have a new task for you." Draco turned around to see a sly smile plastered on Blaise's face.

"Which is?"

"You remember Alistair Green?"

"The twat you dumped during the summer?" Blaise nodded.

"I went to great lengths to please that bastard. I made many sacrifices to keep him…interested." Draco laughed. "However, I somehow ended up getting hurt – " he laughed harder. The idea of Blaise actually caring enough to get hurt was profoundly hilarious. " – when I learned that he had completely fallen for someone else." Blaise raised his eyebrows meaningfully. Draco's brain put two and two together at top speed.

"You don't mean – "

"None other than Neville Longbottom." Draco feared his ribs might crack from laughing so much.

"So that's what that sickening display was all about." He said through a grin. Another sexy but small smirk traced Blaise's face.

"Just keeping my enemies as close as possible, you might say. When I'm done with Longbottom, he will be the ultimate tramp of Crossheights. And poor Alistair's new found love will be…shall we say, damaged goods?" Draco snorted lightly at Blaise's plot for revenge.

"But why destroy such a _perfect_ reputation as Neville's just to get to Alistair?" Blaise looked at him as though he was insane.

"Because to get to him directly would make it obvious it was me. I can't let that happen. I've spent the last five years making sure everybody knows how wonderful I am, Draco. And we don't want to spoil it now, do we?" He didn't wait for Draco to reply. "We are, of course the ex-bad guys of the entire Wizarding world. Both our parents supporters of you-know-who; both of us members of Slytherin. We started out on the wrong side…" he laughed. "Remember?" Draco couldn't resist smiling back at him.

"Fair point. But why should any of this interest me in the slightest?" Blaise's smirk widened.

"Because I need you to seduce our young Neville. Introduce him to…the ways of our world." Draco's mouth fell open at the prospect. Blaise stood up and came up behind him, tracing a finger lightly down his cheek as he spoke. "He's changed a lot. Not the fat clumsy idiot he used to be. He's got one of those newly matured firm, tight bodies…unmarked territory." Blaise slid his finger down Draco's neck sending chills down his spine. "You know you'd enjoy it. To go where no man has gone before." He kissed Draco's neck softly.

"I can't." Draco said quickly turning away. Blaise sat in the armchair and folded his arms sternly.

"And why not?" he snapped. Draco turned to face him.

"Come on, Blaise. That is ridiculously easy. Longbottom would practically fall into my lap if I allowed him to. Get someone else to do it. I have a reputation to keep in check."

"Oh, but of course sleeping with your therapist's son was a huge challenge." Blaise snapped slumping angrily into a nearby armchair. Draco glared at him.

"Bilman gave evidence against my Father." Blaise stared at him. "And he was overcharging for those bloody sessions." He added with a smug smile. "Now _this_ is a challenge." Draco threw a tattered magazine into the other boy's lap. Blaise glanced at the cover.

"Hmm. Shnorbuckle flies infesting Essex? Fascinating."

"Ha ha. Shut up and look at the last article." Blaise sighed but did as he was told. He began to read the article on the page. His eyebrows rose considerably.

"_Potter's plan to wait for his perfect man' –_ is this a joke?" Draco's smirk widened. He could feel the wonderful tingling sensation of taking on another target bubbling inside him.

"No joke." Blaise looked unconvinced.

"Draco, I know you've had some tough shit to deal with recently but you do realise that this magazine is _the Quibbler_?"

"Of course I do. It is completely true. I interrogated the source."

"Lovegood?"

"She was surprisingly co operative." Blaise chuckled.

"Potter has never been very good at trusting the right people." Draco nodded in agreement before snatching the magazine from Blaise's hands. He began to read aloud:

"Let's see, shall we? BORING…_Potter has saved our world_…blah blah blah…_Harry deserves happiness…_oh, look!" Draco exclaimed dramatically, "it says here that he has a boyfriend! _Geoffrey means the world to Harry – but he is making a mature decision in waiting for the right time _."

"You are kidding me." Draco let out a loud laugh at the astonished look on Blaise's face.

"Imagine…the Golden wonder boy who saved our world from the Dark Lord, a perfect untouched soul without a smidgen of sexual experience. Who just so happens to be gay." Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"How very touching. Too bad for you you've no idea where Potter lives." He looked smug.

"Quite the contrary. Lovegood was also extremely quick to let slip that Potter has moved into his Parent's old house."

"Godric's Hollow? You'll never find it. It's a hidden property." Draco simply grinned and leaned very close to Blaise's face.

"Not when you live in a house that holds more Dark arts tracking equipment that any store in the country." He grinned. "Can you imagine how good this will make me look? Finally beating Potter and diminishing that fucking heroic aura. It will be my greatest defeat."

"You don't stand a chance, Draco. Potter is…difficult."

"Care to make it interesting?" Draco said slowly, not breaking their eye contact.

"I'll consider it." Blaise replied, not missing a beat. Draco raised his eyebrows before turning to leave.

"Well, I must go. Andrew Bilman will make a fascinating additional story – " Draco held up a large leather-bound book. A treasured diary recording all of his victims and cunning plans. He liked to read it sometimes when he was having a bad day; a reminder of his previous successes.

"Could you be more of a fag?" Blaise quipped.

"My dear Blaise, it takes one to know one." Draco tapped the side of the diary with his wand as he swept from the room. He lit a cigarette, one of his Father's he assumed, and sat at his finely polished oak desk.

"Draco?" Blaise was suddenly standing in the doorway, a familiar smile twisting his face.

"What now?" Draco replied impatiently, flinging his lighter down.

"I was thinking perhaps I would like to make it interesting." Draco raised an eyebrow. He looked incredible standing there with a nonchalant look upon his face as his collar remained open exposing the dark smooth skin around his collarbone. Draco stared.

"On what terms then?"

"If I manage to ruin Longbottom, then that rather nice little broomstick of yours is mine." Draco's felt his stomach tense. The broomstick was currently the fastest recorded broom in the world. His father had sent it to him after his graduation from Hogwarts and Draco knew he would have the living daylights hexed out of him should anything happen to it.

"And if I win?"

"Well, I'm sure I could think of something." Blaise licked his lips tauntingly. Draco silently cursed himself. Blaise had certainly developed something of a talent for being frighteningly seductive – but virtually untouchable.

"What do you mean by that?" he probed further. Blaise smiled cunningly, the effect of which caused his whole face to darken mysteriously, his high cheekbones made more prominent below long slanting eyes. Draco stared reluctantly.

"I mean – " those gorgeous brown eyes bored into Draco's as Blaise continued" - I'll fuck you senseless." Draco surveyed the stunning tall boy before him and felt something inside him tug painfully. But he had grown accustomed to pushing it to one side; never once to reveal his true desires.

"What makes you think I would agree to this?" Blaise simply smiled.

"Because I know how much you want me." Draco rolled his eyes, but the something inside tugged harder. "I see it in your eyes, Draco. Subtlety is slowly becoming your worst trait." Blaise said, his own eyes glinting mischievously. When Draco didn't reply, he seemed to grab at a final straw. "You can do anything you want...with _my_ broomstick"

The tugging sensation suddenly snapped. Draco seized Blaise's hand and shook it determinedly.

"I think Zabini, you have got yourself a deal."


	3. Chapter 3

**Just a quick thanks to all of you who are following this story and who have reviewed so far. I honestly appreciate anything you have to say so please feel free to review, regardless of whether it's negative or positive feedback! Just a note however, as I have mentioned I do not own the plot from Cruel Intentions and am not making any money from using it here. As this is _fanfiction_ and as I happen to be a fan of both this movie and Harry/Draco stories, combining the two seemed like fun. Enjoy!**

First impressions

Draco arrived at Godric's hollow around mid-morning the following day and within seconds of Apparating on the stone pathway, he frowned in disgust. The little house was sickeningly perfect. Etched with streams of ivy and honeysuckle, its mere appearance reminded Draco of some old Muggle nursery rhyme he had heard once about a girl visiting her grandmother. He knocked on the door once and waited, a kind of excited tension building inside him.

Less than a second later, a slim face appeared at the cottage window, the eyes hidden behind a very familiar pair of glasses. The door opened and for a moment the two boys simply looked at each other. Draco was momentarily amused by the expression on the dark-haired boy's face.

During their final year at Hogwarts Potter had grown remarkably. Once, a scrawny clever looking boy, he was now much taller. An array of black hair still splayed from his head but the combination of sharp features and green eyes simply made it look more edgy than simply untidy. Plus, Draco noted the glasses were much more streamlined. Potter was even more good-looking than he remembered.

"How did you get here?" He stammered his eyes still wide with surprise.

"Potter. Good to see you." He didn't reply. They stood there for what felt like hours until eventually Draco realised Potter wasn't going to say anything. "Well, as much as I do love sneezing myself to death - " he pointed to a particularly large clump of honeysuckle hanging above the door, "perhaps I could come in?"

"Oh. Come in then." His tone wasn't exactly inviting. Draco stepped through the door into a narrow hallway, well aware of the fact that Potter was watching his every move. He surveyed the various hanging photographs of what looked like Potter's parents but was quick to stop himself from feeling an sympathy towards him. After all, Draco's parents were as good as dead. His Father was supposed to be in Azkaban but from what he heard very rarely was. And his mother – well, enough said.

"Nice place, Potter." He commented. "Very cosy." He followed Potter into what looked like the living room, where he suddenly turned around with his arms folded.

"What are you doing here?" Draco sighed, knowing it wasn't going to be exactly easy to break Potter.

"I am here because I think its time we put all the shit behind us." The black haired boy didn't reply, instead preferring to simply continue to glare at Draco.

"What do you expect me to say?"

"Well, how about 'hey, Draco thanks for making the _effort?_"

"This isn't effort, Malfoy. You're here because you want something." Draco smiled inwardly studying his gorgeous victim – if only Potter knew.

"Only to reconcile our differences." He lied smoothly. Potter raised his eyebrows.

"That's what you call it?"

"Of course." Potter didn't say anything for a moment, so Draco chose to make himself comfortable on one of the many squashy armchairs in the room next to a giant metallic-looking instrument that Draco daren't touch. It was like a combination of a modern studio and a country cottage.

"Not that it came as much of a surprise, but I've been warned about your reputation, Malfoy." Potter said suddenly.

"Have you now?"

"Yes. And I'm talking about the so-called _new_ Draco Malfoy."

"New and improved." Draco replied cockily. Potter snorted.

"Far from it."

"So what is it that you've heard?"

"That you're even more of an egotistic arsehole than you used to be. Amazed though I am that that's even possible." Draco grinned.

"Oh, it is. Trust me." Potter frowned at him.

"Also something along the lines of being a raving nymphomaniac who tricks people into sleeping with you?" Draco usually prided himself on his witty responses but _that_ caught him off-guard. He stared at the antagonising green-eyed twat and willed himself to talk.

"Not something you'd know much about though, hey Potter?" _That will shut him up, _he congratulated himself. Sure enough, Potter blinked in surprise and Draco could have sworn he turned slightly red.

"Fuck off." He snapped.

"Speaking of which, I have to say, Potter. That article was most intriguing." Potter eyes flashed dangerously.

"I did not write, or say _anything_ in that bloody article." He spat, sounding as though he had repeated this many times.

"Oh, so you're not a gay virgin who is currently dating some fag called Geoffrey?" Potter pulled out his wand and within seconds it was mere centimetres from Draco's forehead. Draco wondered for a second if perhaps he had gone too far.

"That is none – of – your – fucking - business." He looked livid. "At least I'm not a sex addict whose biggest achievement to date is sleeping with a counsellor's son." Draco narrowed his eyes. Even after the release of the photographs on Andrew Bilman, Draco made absolutely sure he was not identified.

"Who's been telling you this?"

"I have friends, unlike you Malfoy."

"I have plenty of friends, thank you."

"Do they remember your name in the morning?" Potter retorted. Draco scowled.

"Potter, tell me who has been bad-mouthing me so I can see to it that they are hexed until they can no longer stand up straight. And get your bloody wand out of my face." Potter lowered his wand reluctantly, but still glared fixedly at Draco.

"Why are you acting so surprised that I know about your reinvented status? It's the truth isn't it?"

Draco stared into Potter's soulful green eyes, quite unlike any colour he had ever seen and suddenly found it wasn't so difficult to answer.

"If you say so." He said with a smirk.

* * *

Back at Malfoy Manor, Blaise was busy prowling the hallways as he had grown accustomed to doing when he needed to go over his plans. He was determined to get back at that bastard Alistair Green for what he had done to him. However, he was equally as determined to successfully crush Draco Malfoy – in more ways than one.

For some reason, unbeknown to Blaise, he found himself constantly competing against idiots like Neville Longbottom. He knew full well he was attractive and confidently witty – not to mention being fucking incredible in bed. Even Draco would vouch for that in spite of the fact they had never actually slept together.

Draco was the only person who had ever refused him and to this day, he had no idea why. He only had to look at the blonde Slytherin and his icy façade would melt into nothing. Nothing more than a pale, muscular imitation of pure lust. But still, despite Blaise's constant efforts, he refused him.

Unfortunately, as much as Blaise loathed himself to letting it happen, he was somewhat envious of the blonde's natural talents to draw people to him. But over the years, Blaise had watched and learned. Now there was only one victory that would prove his power.

And he was determined to beat him.

"I am crap at this!" A loud voice echoed up the hallway from one of the old music rooms in the Manor. Blaise approached and listened more closely. In a rare gesture of good will, he had allowed Neville to visit the Manor for his Spell-up sessions his Grandmother paid for. Although, as Blaise approached and watched from the doorway, it wasn't exactly money well-spent. Currently, there was a large foam chair zooming around the room, bouncing off the curtains hung on the windows showering the floor with dust.

"No, you don't. You're just letting your concentration wander, that's all." Blaise was pleasantly surprised to see that Neville's tutor was a young attractive man with ash-blonde hair and hazel eyes. He pointed his wand at the chair, halting it in mid-air before guiding it back down to the floor in front of his student. He smiled encouragingly at Neville. "Why don't you give it another try?"

Neville screwed his eyes shut in concentration and gave his wand a lumbering flick as though he were lassoing a small animal. Blaise rolled his eyes. Clearly, he was supposed to be actually transfiguring the chair into something. This time, it lifted about an inch from the ground before lazily landing back down again.

"I can't do this! Grandma is going to kill me when she finds out I'm _still_ crap." he burst out angrily, throwing his wand clattering to the wooden floor. The tutor laughed kindly and picked up the wand.

"Yes, you can. And stop saying crap. Just remember the wrist-action I showed you, ok?" he placed it gently back in Neville's right hand and spun him slightly so that Neville was facing the doorway. Blaise felt his attention sharpen. Neville's tutor came up behind him and softly grasped his hand, holding it as he demonstrated the correct wrist-movement.

Blaise watched in astonishment as Neville let out a heavy sigh and very slowly let his eyes fall closed as his hand was guided through the air. This continued for several seconds, the two of them growing closer and closer.

Blaise had seen enough. He pulled out his wand, and performing a very similar move to the one Neville was currently being romanced over, caused one of the high windows, that was latched open to slam shut loudly.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to interrupt." Blaise swept into the room, intent on appearing as though he had not witnessed what had just happened. They sprang apart as though being electrified. "Looks like you're improving, Neville." Blaise commented enthusiastically. Neville blushed, casting a very awkward sideways glance at his tutor.

"This is Robert Harris." He said quietly. The handsome, hazel-eyed man held out a hand to Blaise and smiled kindly.

"Good to meet you. Thank you so much for letting us practice here."

"Not at all."

"Robert is the youngest graduate at Harvey's training school." Neville interjected proudly. Robert smiled again.

"Well, there was a guy who was born three days before me but he didn't get as good marks." Neville laughed unnaturally loudly at this for quite some time until Blaise shot him a frown.

"Well, I guess that's our hour up, Neville. I'll see you next week?" Robert picked up his bag from the floor and put his wand in his robe pocket. Neville nodded, seemingly too afraid to talk. Blaise rolled his eyes again impatiently at the boy's complete inability to behave like a normal wizard.

Neville stared longingly at the doorway for a good few minutes after his tutor had left. Blaise grinned and folded his arms.

"So, how about you tell me what _that_ was all about." Neville simply groaned.


End file.
